


Hiraeth

by hailcyeon



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, F/M, POV Second Person, Sci-Fi, Slow Burn, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailcyeon/pseuds/hailcyeon
Summary: hir·aeth - n. a homesickness for a home you can not return to or a home that never was.Your heart lays at the bottom of a river an entire lifetime away. You inhabit a different skin now, one that is unaware of the motions of a mad king. When your cousin arrives suddenly, breaking your new reality into a million pieces, you learn what it means to be home.





	1. Abeyance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the world of fanfiction. Buckle up kiddos, it's gonna be a long one.

It's a drizzly Friday evening when your past catches up to you.

The late train out to your neighborhood winds around all the outlying areas surrounding the Armistice mega city, making for a frustrating commute. Being the financial and cultural heart of the United Northern Federation, Armistice is a sprawling metropolis spanning almost twenty-five square kilometers, a melting pot of cultures from all nations. The city swallows up the entire semi-circle coastline formed by the Bay of Sipala and spreads out in all directions, which is a lot to ask for in terms of public transport.

Somewhere halfway through your three-block walk from the subway to your apartment, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Anticipating a co-worker asking for a last-minute code check, you grumble to yourself about being off the clock, but nonetheless tap the screen. The text is from an unknown number.

_It’s cold out today._

Another buzz.

_You should be wearing a scarf._

Another buzz.

_Did you throw out the one I gave you?_

You stare at the texts with pursed lips and tensed muscles, waiting for another vibration, but none comes. You immediately block the number, the third one this week, and shove your phone back in your pocket. Quickening your pace, you continue onwards, feeling even more tired than you had a minute ago.

You round the corner to your apartment a good two hours after you'd already left work, the sun long having set. Between your yawning and self-pitying stupor, you don't notice your landlady out to walk her dog until the fuzzy poodle mix runs up to you.

“Hey there, Belle,” you say, bent over to rub the dog's head. Tired as you are, the affectionate canine still manages to elicit a smile.

“Long day?” Your landlady stands with a hand on her hip, tutting mildly. “For such a fancy company, you'd think they could afford to give you more reasonable shifts.”

You straighten back to face her with a rueful smile. “I started barely a year ago, Auntie. Gotta pay my dues and all that.”

TirTech Telecommunications and Security, being a worldwide tech giant, had advertised their cushy benefits and flexible scheduling on all the job sites. However, you are newer hire, a junior consultant, meaning you’re usually saddled with most of the grunt work, requiring long hours in the office. The latest client assigned to you is some alternative banking startup, and their security procedures are essentially made of tissue paper, with all their confidential data on public networks.

She tuts some more. “A young girl like you should be getting ready to go out and do whatever it is you kids do these days, not working late and talking to old ladies like me.”

“You're not even that old, Auntie,” you laugh.

Promising her to take more time for yourself, you head inside, stopping briefly to collect yet more bills from your mailbox. You're so engrossed in reading your credit card company's new payment policy, you almost run into a figure standing at your door. You look up just in time, only to have your world turn upside down.

“Cha Hakyeon.”

The face at your doorstep is from another lifetime. Hakyeon leans on the door frame and flashes his painfully familiar, sheepish grin. “How is my favorite cousin doing?” At your nonplussed expression, his grin falls. “I'm sorry to drop in on you so suddenly. Have you been working late?”

He's answered with silence, your brain still working overtime to catch up.

His gaze softens. “Could we speak inside?”

Shakily, you enter your entry key on the number pad and step inside, followed closely by Hakyeon and a tall, blond companion that you've just now registered.

Your apartment is comfortable by Armistice standards, but right now you may as well be living in a cardboard box.

You're staring, and your eyes seem to be working, but your brain doesn't quite know what to do with this information. Cha Hakyeon, crown prince to the Kingdom of Asadal, and your older cousin, is in your threadbare living room, approximately a thousand miles and three time zones away from where he should be. He glances uncertainly at the blond stranger and takes a seat on your sagging couch. You'd laugh at the contrast between his expensive tailored suit and the blotch on couch cushion next to him where you spilled spaghetti sauce last week, but honestly your brain is still processing.

“What are you _doing_ here?”

He actually pouts, raising his eyebrows up at you in displeasure. You note, with all the absurdity the situation requires, that his brows are meticulously shaped. “Ten years no see and I don't even get a hello?”

“Hakyeon, you're stalling,” says the blond in a sing-song way, still standing next to the prince. Your expression isn't quite a glare, but it's definitely getting there.

Hakyeon sighs. “I won't beat around the bush then. I need your help.”

“What the hell does the crown prince need my help for?” You don't mean to sound as hostile as you do, but a seed of panic has planted itself firmly in your chest.

“My father is a tyrant,” Hakyeon says, his eyes unable to meet yours. “He’s unhinged and dangerous, as you so unfortunately know personally.”

Of course you know. You know your uncle's cruelty and malice the way a shipwreck knows the breaking waves. The panic roots itself in your abdomen as you fight to keep your cool.

The prince stands and begins pacing, still refusing to meet your eyes. “I know I'm asking for a lot. It can't be easy to have me drop in on you out of the blue like this. But know that I wouldn't be here if I had any other options.”

“Spit it out, I don't have all day.” You might mean the hostility this time.

With a sigh he stops to face you at last. “Asadal needs its princess.”

The panic blossoms.

“Get out, Hakyeon.”

“Please!” He steps toward you, and you're forced back against the far wall to put some distance between yourselves.

“Think about what you're asking of me,” you say in a horrified whisper, fighting to stay calm. It's been a while since your last full panic attack, and you refuse to break your streak now.

“I know! I know what I'm asking. Please realize I have no choice, no one else to turn to,” he pleads. Between the tight line of his lips and his clenched hands, you've never seen your cousin this distressed.

“I can't.” You shake your head, willing yourself to keep the tears at bay, but memories resurface unbidden. Your limbs like lead, waking up with your lungs full of water. “You _know_ why I left.”

“You'll be safe, I promise. I already have everything set up, you'll—”

“Hakyeon, they threw me in a river and left me to die!” You don't mean to scream, but it's all you can do to keep it together, eyes screwed closed tightly. He's silent for a second while you do your best to blink away tears.

“I know,” Hakyeon says, ashamed. “I know I can never answer for what my father's done to you and your family. The number of lives he's destroyed can't be counted.” He takes another step toward you and this time you have nowhere left to go. “That's why he needs to be stopped. And I need your help to do it.”

“Am I supposed to just put my life on hold to go help you on this useless crusade?” You're incredulous. “What you're asking for is _impossible.”_

“We can help make arrangements.” Hakyeon is in his stern prince mode and you know he can't be swayed. “I gave you ten years. All I'm asking for is a couple months of your time.”

The guilt digs in. There are some debts that can't be repaid. Still…

“Hakyeon. This is too much.”

He takes your shaking hands in his, forcing you to look up at him. “I swear on my life you will be safe. I have contingencies prepared for everything. And I brought Jaehwan,” he says, jerking his head toward the blond who has been listening quietly to your family drama this whole time.

Jaehwan gives you a peppy wave and a megawatt smile. You stare blankly, taking your hands out of Hakyeon’s. “ _Who_?”

They both seem surprised. “Really? You don't remember—” starts Hakyeon, then seems to change his mind. “It doesn't matter. Jaehwan is my friend and an excellent bodyguard. He'll be watching over you as a favor to me.”

“I don't know that the king is going to be very afraid of one guy.”

“The king won't even know you're there,” Hakyeon says earnestly. “Please, I just need help gathering people, and maybe breaking into the king’s systems. You work for TirTech, I know you can do it.”

You blink in surprise, taken aback. “How do you know where I work?”

Hakyeon smiles softly, a smile you haven't seen for many lonely years. “You thought I wouldn't be keeping tabs on my favorite little cousin?”

“I'm your only cousin, Hakyeon.” You sigh, exhausted by this whole ordeal.

“Well, you're my favorite anyway.” Hakyeon takes your hand and squeezes softly. “Look, you don't have to decide right now. I have to get back to the Capital tonight, but I'll leave Jaehwan here in the city for the time being. He'll make sure you're safe, and when you're ready, you can make your way back home.”

The mention of “home” brings you a not insignificant amount of discomfort. Taking your hand back, you rub your temples. A mild headache has begun to form, and you still have to address those bills at some point today.

“I don't need a babysitter.”

“I'd feel better leaving him with you. Contingencies, you know?”

You don't argue further, anything for a little peace and quiet. Hakyeon straightens his coat, smiling down fondly.

“I have to go deal with some business now unfortunately,” he says. For a second you think he's going to hug you goodbye, but then he turns to the door, which is already being held open by Jaehwan. “Take care, little cousin. I hope to see you soon.”

You're left in your empty apartment with silence hanging in the air and a storm in your chest.


	2. Antecedent

A week after your ill-fated family reunion, Saturday morning dawns a brilliant blue. The clear skies and crisp autumn air are doing nothing for your sour mood as you head out on what is certain to be an exhausting day. While TirTech pays decently, especially considering all your recent overtime hours, your weekends are still dedicated to making up the difference in covering your bills through a part-time job. There’s an eight-block walk to the small chain cafe where you work, and errands to run after. At the very least you’re thankful not to have gotten the opening shift, sleep having been scarce for you lately.

The leaves are living up to the name of the season, having fallen all around you as you pass a park, creating a sea of brown and red on the sidewalk. Saturdays in your neighborhood are as busy as any weekday, and the relatively good weather has drawn people out from their homes to enjoy the last rays of sunlight before the dark of winter arrives. You’re fairly good at dodging through the crowd of people on your brisk walk to work, not even bothering to look up, but the flash of an old face passing by jolts you out of your inattention.

Familiar green eyes set on a brown, freckled face meet yours for a split second from the oncoming rush of strangers on the street. You stop in place, spinning around and disrupting the flow of traffic on the sidewalk making quite a few people grumble around you. Try as you might, however, you can’t spot the head of dark curls you’re expecting to see. Heart slowly thudding its way back to a normal rhythm, you give up and continue on before you’re late for work.

You’re waiting at a crosswalk still bleary-eyed and pessimistic, shoes lit red by the “Do Not Walk” indicator built into street. The light turns green as you spot a second familiar face. Hakyeon’s friend stands across the street from the cafe where you work, earbuds in and bleach-blond head bobbing along to the music. You have no idea what he’s doing here, but you pick up your pace, hoping to pass by unnoticed.

As your luck would have it, he looks up and locks eyes with yours briefly, greeting you with a cheery wag of his fingers. You roll your eyes so hard they hurt a little, and yank open the glass door to the cafe, rushing to the back to clock in. There’s no morning rush of commuters to deal with on Saturdays, so the only customers are a trendy couple whispering to each other over a pop song playing on the store radio.

Slipping on an apron, you join your coworker and sort-of friend at the register to relieve her of the tray of cakes she’s balancing.

“Oh man am I glad you’re here,” Mimi says, steadying the phone in the crook of her shoulder. “Someone messed up the stock order this week and we’re low on pretty much every blend of coffee. And some guy called in a huge birthday order this morning for his kid, so I have to help the bakery guys put that together.”

You quickly get to work gently placing the intricately decorated cakes in their display case. The cafe is no Starbucks, but the hand-ground coffee and bakery items have garnered their own small fanbase. Gimmicky or not, handmade items have their place in the age of automation.

After depositing the tray in the back, you’re getting ready to open the other register when Mimi leans over to whisper conspiratorially.

“You got a new boyfriend? That guy’s been staring at you since you got here.”

You whip your head up to look where she’s indicating, and your stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch. Jaehwan is sitting by himself at a seat by the window, a smile splitting his face as your eyes widen.

_“Are you serious?”_

Mimi is startled by your hiss, but you’re already marching over where he’s sitting, determined to put a stop to this.

Jaehwan’s smile doesn’t budge at your incensed expression. “Good morning, Princess.”

You almost smack him. Almost. Figuring it’s against corporate policy to hit a customer, you grit your teeth.

“Why are you here?” you manage to grind out.

“I heard this place has the best Americano in the city,” Jaehwan answers, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

You hold back a snort of disbelief at that. “Well, you’ll have to order at the counter, we’re not table service.”

You swing around and head back to the register. Jaehwan unfortunately follows right after, eliciting a cheeky smile and a nudge from Mimi, to your indignation.

“I’m gonna go back and help the bakers, you take all the time you need,” she stage whispers, walking away with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

“She’s quite nice,” Jaehwan says evenly.

“A treasure,” you respond, deadpan. “Are you going to order?”

“Hmm.” He contemplates the menu, then fixes you with a look entirely incongruous with his sunshine demeanor. “How about… an answer for Hakyeon?”

You shouldn’t be taken aback, but you are. “What?”

“Are you coming back to the motherland to help with our _glorious revolution_ and all that. Hakyeon needs an answer.”

Something about his gaze makes you shift uncomfortably. “I haven’t given it enough thought,” you say noncommittally.

“Time is running out, Princess.” He’s leaning on the counter, chin in hand.

You force yourself to break from his eyes, backing away to busy yourself with the espresso machine.

“Who even are you, Hakyeon’s personal assistant?” Your cousin’s influence in your life is rarely this heavy handed.

“Do you _really_ not remember?”

His tone makes you look up. Head tilted, he’s considering you with an intense curiosity.

You furrow your brows and turn back to your task. “Should I remember? Feel free to enlighten me.”

He shakes his head with another smile. “If you don’t remember then there’s no point.”

 _That’s not cryptic at all,_ you think to yourself sourly. Tired of this exchange, you place a to-go cup on the counter, slightly less gently than intended.

“Here’s your Americano, on the house. Have a nice day!” Your dismissal isn’t exactly subtle, and Jaehwan gets the hint, tipping his cup in a jaunty toast to you.

“I’ll see you around, Princess.”

 

* * *

 

His words come true much earlier than you had hoped.

You take a longer, more winding route back home than usual, opting to walk an extra few blocks in case Jaehwan is still following you around, not that he’d have an easy time picking you out in these busy Saturday night crowds. Your eyes burn from lack of sleep and the glare of neon lights.

You’re taking a familiar shortcut through a side alley when you hear footsteps behind you. Thoroughly irritated now, you swing around to face your tail.

“Enough is enough, I told you—”

You stop abruptly, because neither of the two figures you see are the annoying blond you’ve come to expect.

“Long time no see, Birdy.”

The use of your old nickname sends your heart into overdrive; the ghosts of your past have been very active recently. There is the curly-headed boy you were expecting to see this morning, just taller now than you had anticipated, and accompanied by another you remember. They came to you in their childhood, but now they’re just barely adults. It’s a lie to say you hadn’t anticipated their reappearance in your life, but you don’t particularly like being right in this instance.

“Didn’t think you’d run this far out of the city to get away from Bridge.” The taller of the two boys, whose name you had never actually learned, is leering at you unconvincingly. You remember him being a quiet, lanky kid when you first met him, shyly greeting you as a new recruit.

You say nothing, instead staring into a pair of green eyes with something resembling disappointment. This one you remember better. Kuyi, the small messenger in your little group, reminded you painfully of your own orphaned self, and you’d taken him under your wing at the time.

“How come you didn’t say hi this morning, Kuyi?” you manage finally.

Kuyi’s brown skin flushes ever so slightly, and he looks at his feet when he answers. “You weren’t supposed to see me.”

“You were always better at digital intel, buddy,” you say almost apologetically. Some part of your racing heart softens, remembering the countless hours you two had spent sitting in front of screens, scoping out potential targets. But the past is meant to stay in the past.

“What do you want?” you ask, trying not to let your guard down.

“We just want our Birdy back,” the tall one says, entirely insincerely. “Bridge wants to talk.”

The memories turn sour, and you steel your resolve. You’d been ignoring the mysterious messages on your phone for the past couple weeks for a reason, but you didn’t think he’d actually stoop to sending the kids out to find you.

“Bridge can go fuck himself.”

The frown on Kuyi’s face almost makes you feel bad, but you can’t let yourself be swayed. The taller boy is stepping toward you, and you’re thinking maybe it’s about time you run.

“Aww, don’t be like that, just come back with us.”

He grabs your wrist and you’re in full panic mode. Twisting your hand as best you can, you try to loosen his grip enough to run, but his much larger hand holds fast. Desperate, you use your free hand to pry open his fingers, bending one of them back as far as you can until you hear a crack.

The boy howls in pain and releases you, growling in anger. “You broke my finger, you bitch!”

“Touch me again and I’ll break another one,” you snarl, shaking with adrenaline and righteous fury.

He spits at you and grabs Kuyi by the collar, dragging him backwards. “Come on kid, Bridge can deal with her himself.”

You watch the two walk away, frozen in place, doing your best to comprehend what’s just happened. A voice calls out behind you, startling you further.

“What kind of thug is afraid of a broken finger?”

You whirl around, heart still racing, only to find Jaehwan. He looks thoroughly confused and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. So, you yell.

“What is _wrong_ with you?!”

Jaehwan blinks rapidly, pouting a little. “ _Me?_ I’m not the one that assaulted you.”

“You follow me around all day and you don’t even have the decency to show up the one time I’m actually in trouble,” you rant, your nerves completely frayed.

“I wasn’t following you,” he says, still frowning.

“How are you here right now?!”

“Hakyeon asked me to keep an eye on you. You didn’t get home when you were supposed to, so I went looking for you,” he says, shrugging mildly.

You don’t even have the energy to figure out if that makes sense or not, so you give up and start walking home, leaving Jaehwan in the alley. He runs after you, long legs closing the distance easily. You’ve still got a few blocks to your apartment, and you have no idea who else might show up, so you don’t even complain.

“Hey, you handled yourself pretty well though,” he says, apparently feeling guilty.

You roll your eyes. “Those kids weren’t any actual threat. I practically changed their diapers back in the day.”

“There’s a story there,” Jaehwan says expectantly. When you say nothing, he continues. “What did they want?”

You make a face, not quite sure you want to share this aspect of your life with a stranger.

“They’re from an old, um, group I used to be a part of,” you say, all too aware of the vagueness.

Jaehwan raises an eyebrow, and you feel your cheeks heat in mild embarrassment.

“I’m not with them anymore, I have a real job now and I haven’t been in that kind of work for a long time.”

“What kind of work?” Jaehwan’s lips twitch in what you’re sure is a mocking smile, but you’re doing your best not to look at him for too long.

“The less than legal kind.”

“You were in a _gang?_ ” he laughs, unable to hold back his amusement anymore.

You stop abruptly, definitely embarrassed now, and you fight the urge to hit him for the second time today.

“Not a gang!” you yell, trying to control the pitch of your voice. “Just, like, a social group that occasionally, ah, procured funds and stuff in morally ambiguous ways.”

“ _So_ ,” Jaehwan says, drawing out the word. “A gang.”

You roll your eyes and take off again in a huff, followed by a laughing Jaehwan. You’re seriously rethinking this entire conversation.

“And they want you back?”

You shrug, a little unsure of the situation yourself. “Seems that way. Bridge has been sending me creepy messages, but I didn’t think he’d ever send people after me.”

“Bridge?”

You make another pained face. “Leader of the um, social group. And shitty ex-boyfriend,” you mutter under your breath.

“You dated a guy named _Bridge?_ ” He’s still laughing and you wish it didn’t make you feel so very stupid.

“That’s not the point!”

Jaehwan apparently has an annoying tendency to latch onto the smallest details. He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“We met in school after I moved to the city. He was still running small-time scams then. He asked me to help him with some computer systems, general intel stuff,” you admit regretfully. “I was young, and I had no friends. I left eventually, but not before I helped him steal a lot of money. It seems he’s still fixated.”

Your face is dark, and Jaehwan is quiet for once, struggling for words.

“Does Hakyeon know?” he asks softly.

You shrug, feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve arrived at your apartment and you want nothing more than to collapse in bed. Jaehwan is considering you curiously again and seems to come to a conclusion.

“Give me your phone,” he says with no preface.

You wordlessly unlock your cell phone and hand it over, out of fight for the day. He quickly swipes through and hands it back.

“There, now you have my number if they show up again.”

You’re touched, but also not sure how you feel about his worming into your life further. He leaves you at your doorstep, humming to himself as he walks away.


	3. Exodus

It’s the morning Bridge shows up in front of your apartment block that you give Jaehwan a call.

“How the  _fuck_  does everyone know where I live?” you mutter to yourself, furiously shoving clothes into a small suitcase, phone in the crook of your shoulder merrily ringing away. Already dressed for work in slacks and a blouse, you hadn’t anticipated your typical morning routine being interrupted by a hasty getaway. You hear a click, and then Jaehwan’s raspy sleep-addled voice.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. We’re leaving.” You’ve thrown the phone on your bed on speakerphone, rummaging around for your work laptop.

“Princess?”

You roll your eyes at his epithet. “Yeah, we gotta go.”

That seems to wake him up. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“No!” Your shout startles even yourself, but the idea of a confrontation with the man outside terrifies you. “We can meet somewhere. Do you know where Kowen Vista is?” you ask. You give him directions to a park a couple blocks away and hang up, rushing through your apartment so as to keep yourself from thinking about what you’re doing.

You risk a peek out your window, where Bridge is still waiting, leaned up against the opposite apartment block. Cursing your misfortune, you hurry out your door, making a mental note to message your landlady later. You’re headed out the rear exit of the building, determined to avoid a meeting with your dreaded ex. It’s not to be, as a voice you’re all too familiar with calls out your name.

Spinning on your heel, you turn to face Bridge. He looks heart-clenchingly the same as he did when you left, with pale eyes and dark hair that you once loved.

“You’re a hard woman to track down, you know?” Still just as infuriatingly hard to read, his face betrays nothing.

“And yet here you are.” Your grip on your bags tightens, unsure of how to end this confrontation.

“Did you really throw out my scarf?” Bridge asks, his tone calculated and light. “It’s been getting colder and colder.”

You swallow heavily. “I’m a big girl now, Bridge, I can take care of myself.”

He cracks a small smile. “That you can. I heard you broke Ilsung’s finger.”

You grit your teeth, remembering the night in the alley. “He got handsy with me.”

“Poor kid didn’t know who he was dealing with,” he says almost proudly. His gaze upon you is hungry, making your skin crawl. Bridge runs a hand through his hair with bruised knuckles, and you know poor Ilsung has more than just a broken finger.

“Are you going somewhere?” he continues, nodding toward your packed suitcase and backpack.

“Just a business trip,” you respond as evenly as you can, grip on the straps ever tighter.

He shakes his head and steps closer. “You don’t travel, Birdy. Not without my knowing.”

Your heart hammers at his encroaching figure, every muscle straining not to turn tail and run. You’re spared from a poorly thought out lie by a shout behind you.

“There you are!”

To your horror, Jaehwan arrives like a knight in dark leather, huffing from having run the last block. Your shock only grows as he drops a kiss on your cheek and winds an arm around your waist.

“Running late as always, sweetheart? I expected you half an hour ago!”

_What._

Through your confusion and the lingering warmth on your cheek, you notice Bridge’s clenched teeth as he raises his eyebrows at the newcomer.

“And you are?” he grinds out.

Jaehwan fixes him with a blinding smile and holds out a hand. “Lee Jaehwan, at your service.”

Bridge looks at the offered hand as if it’s diseased. “What is this?” he directs at you.

“Um, my new boyfriend?” you offer weakly.

“Aww, she’s still so shy about our relationship,” Jaehwan coos, and you kind of want to die right now. “We’re taking a weekend trip to visit my parents, they’re so excited to meet her!”

“Right.” Bridge’s disdain almost takes a life of its own.

“Well, must be off! We’re already late for the train as it is.” Jaehwan wheels you around, dragging you with him. “Very nice meeting you!” he calls back over his shoulder.

The second you round the corner from your apartment block, you spring from Jaehwan’s grasp as if burned.

“Think he bought it?” he says, giving you some space.

“Absolutely not. What were you thinking?!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down.

Jaehwan shrugs. “I was thinking he looks like the kind of guy who won’t leave a girl alone unless she’s attached to another guy.”

You bristle at the thought of being attached to Jaehwan, or indeed any other man.

“You probably just made him mad.” You chew on your bottom lip, thinking of all the ways this could come back to haunt you. “Bridge isn’t the type to give up so easily. He found me again after all.” You glance over at Jaehwan who has been leading you toward the subway. “What happened to meeting me at the park?”

He scoffs out a laugh. “You call me out of nowhere to say we have to leave and you expect me not to investigate?”

“It’s not that absurd,” you mutter, taking the stairs underground. The two of you are quickly swallowed up by the crowd of commuters traveling to work.

“You had a very sudden change of heart,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head. In truth, the question of leaving had occupied your mind since the day Hakyeon arrived. The reappearance of Bridge had only spooked you into action.

“You don’t know Bridge. I will not be controlled by him again.” Your resolution is ironclad, but you wish your heart could be just as steady. You have stark memories of moving all around the city, being denied work because of Bridge’s blacklist, being tailed day in and day out. The fear makes your heart waver, but the memories make your mind resolute.

“Besides,” you continue. “Hakyeon is right.”

“Is he?” Jaehwan asks, skeptical.

You nod regretfully. “I owe him.” You would not be alive were it not for your cousin, a fact that haunts you to this day.

The wait at the subway platform is short, and soon the two of you are boarded on a line heading to the main transit hub of the city. You have no idea what the plan is, but you’re trusting Hakyeon to have laid everything out. Once in the city proper, you follow Jaehwan to the ticket kiosk for an international bullet train line.

You wait on a nearby bench and close your eyes briefly, exhausted from your life the past few weeks. You’re used to waking early for work, but the weeks of poor sleep are taking their toll. The world moves on around you, oblivious to the chaos of your life. The Armistice megacity never truly sleeps, but morning rush hour is when it is most alive, with office workers and college kids all rushing about, coffee in hand. You’re idly wondering if you should bother with caffeine yourself when you hear Jaehwan approach.

“The train leaves in half an hour. Look alive, Princess,” he says, handing you a laminated ticket and taking a seat next to you.

You examine the ticket, turning it over slowly. “Stop calling me that,” you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Jaehwan quirks an eyebrow. “Is that not what you are?”

“I haven’t been a princess in a very long time.” Now that the adrenaline is wearing down, your heart feels heavy and you have anxiety writhing in your stomach again. “This is a very expensive ticket,” you say absently.

He laughs and flashes you a conspiring smirk. “I’ve got the royal credit card on hand. Everything is on Hakyeon, so feel free to explore how far his balance goes.”

You crack a smile at the thought of your cousin’s face upon seeing the bill. The next half hour passes in a gently awkward silence, but before long you find yourself seated in one of the nicest trains you’ve ever been on. Jaehwan has booked a whole compartment, so you’re spared the disservice of having to interact with anyone else. He excuses himself briefly to take a stroll down the corridor, allowing you to sink into the plush leather seats and close your tired eyes.

 

* * *

 

You wake to the setting sun and Jaehwan across the compartment staring at you curiously.

“Have you been watching me sleep?”

He shakes his head. “Did you know you drool in your sleep?”

You sit up with a start and rub your mouth furiously, glaring at him. A glance outside shows you’re traveling on a high bridge over glittery waters. It only deepens your glare.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere over the Strait of Thule,” he says, naming a thin body of water connecting the United Northern Federation to the Tuvan Republic in the west. “You’ve been out almost seven hours.” Arms crossed and leaning back, Jaehwan is the picture of nonchalance.

It’s more consecutive sleep than you’ve had in weeks, and farther away than you’ve traveled in years. You shouldn’t be, but you’re impressed by the speed of the high-tech bullet train that’s already started crossing over to the next continent. Ever closer to your homecoming.

You’re jolted out of your reverie by a miniature chocolate bar landing in your lap, thrown by Jaehwan.

“Hungry?” he says at your confused look, popping a chocolate of his own into his mouth.

“Please tell me there’s more food on this train than your candy stash.” You look down at the offending piece of candy in disdain, but slip it into your pocket for later anyway.

He responds by striding over to the compartment door. You think he’s about to leave, but instead he presses a small button that slides open a touchscreen panel.

“You can order anything you need through this. It’s essentially room service, which is super cool,” he says, grinning.

You tilt your head, once again impressed, trying to keep the wonder off your face.

“There’s also a bathroom in the next car if you need to brush your teeth or shower.”

Realizing your mouth feels decidedly un-fresh, you pull out your toothpaste and brush and are about to step out when you hear Jaehwan start to follow.

“You are  _not_  following me to the bathroom,” you say with a glare.

He quirks his mouth in a lopsided frown, apparently taking his job as your bodyguard very seriously. “Hakyeon said to keep an eye on you.”

“ _No._ ” You refuse to be followed around everywhere, least of all to the bathroom.

He shrugs and gives up, sitting back down.

“It’s on the left!” you hear him call out behind you as you step out into the hall.

Following his directions, you walk down the corridor to the left. The automatic door to the next car slides open and you walk through, only to run directly into a man coming through the other side.

“Sorry!” you say quickly, stepping back to give the man some space.

“Ack, I’m sorry miss.” The man’s voice is a low rumble in his chest as he turns to the side to let you through. “Are you okay?”

Embarrassed, you quickly walk past him, noting his close-cropped black hair and considerable height before bowing your head in apology.

“I’m fine. I should have been looking where I was going, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good!” He chuckles in a just-as-low booming way before heading down the way you came.

The bathroom turns out to be nicer than the one you have in your apartment, with stainless steel faucets and even a small tiled shower. You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face, feeling a little readier to handle life. Satisfied with your minty fresh breath, you return to the compartment and pull out your laptop, settling down to be productive despite the circumstances.

Jaehwan is fiddling with the service screen as you open your emails, grateful for the abundant internet access. You’re starting to compose some sort of explanation for your landlady when Jaehwan interrupts your thoughts.

“When’s the last time you ate, Princess?”

A quick glance over shows that he’s swiping through some sort of menu, but you’re more interested in your email. “I thought I asked you to stop calling me that,” you mumble half-heartedly.

“Hakyeon’s gonna kill me if you die of starvation before we get you to him,” he retorts. “I’m ordering food, what do you want?”

You’re about to tell him to surprise you with anything, but ultimately realizing you don’t trust him not to order more candy, you give up and make your way over to the screen.

“The train’s also about to make its first stop, if you wanna hop off and find something there,” Jaehwan says. “We won’t have a lot of time though.”

You shake your head and poke at the screen, picking out an entree for yourself. Leaving Jaehwan to make his own selection, you busy yourself with your laptop again, wondering just how much of your work you can actually do remotely. Explaining your situation to your supervisor is going to be a headache and you feel bad for dropping out on the rest of your team, but you’d worked way too hard to get this position to just give it up now.

You’re looking through some code, accompanied by the sounds of a game Jaehwan is playing on his phone. Try as you might, the characters all swim in front of your eyes as you lose your concentration, lost in anxiety about going back to Asadal. Ten years is a long time, and you’re not sure what you’ll find when you return.

The food eventually arrives, carted in by a courier. Delicious smells of noodles and rice fill the compartment as your attention is finally torn from your work. Looking at the cart though, you realize that there are about ten dishes extra from what you ordered.

“Royal credit card!” Jaehwan exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“You can’t possibly eat all this,” you say, fixing him with an incredulous look.

“You’re going to help me, of course,” he responds matter-of-factly, grabbing a pair of chopsticks.

You cross your arms in defiance. “I did not sign up for that.”

“Sit down, Princess.” He pats the seat next to him and shoves a dumpling in his mouth. “You’re just as stubborn as Hakyeon, you know that?”

Mildly offended, you take the seat opposite him and pick up some chopsticks of your own. Living on your own for so long, you had few opportunities to eat out, and your own cooking skills are limited, to put it kindly. The spread of dishes in front of you is almost overwhelming in comparison.

You load up a plate of rice and the entree you chose, but Jaehwan keeps adding to your plate, looking away and munching on his food innocently when you glare. Resisting the urge to fling something at him, you begin to eat quietly. It’s all so very delicious, and you have to work hard not to show Jaehwan how much you’re enjoying it, lest he be too proud of himself.

The meal passes in silence, punctuated only with Jaehwan’s insistence you try something. Your full stomach makes you feel sleepy again, and you officially give up on work, leaning back against the seats and staring out the window. You’re on dark land now, the stars illuminating the blurry landscape. Being surrounded by city lights for most of your life, the star-studded sky is an unfamiliar but unforgettable sight. You close your eyes again, trying to prepare yourself for the coming days as best as possible.

Hours later, you’re shaken awake by Jaehwan who is kneeling next to you and sporting a serious look you’ve never seen before on him.

“Rise and shine, we have to go.”


	4. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live!! I'm so sorry for the unannounced hiatus. Life got very busy for a little while, and this chapter needed major rewrites. It's largely un-beta'd, so I apologize for any issues. But it's super long, so I hope you enjoy!

The train is still and the compartment is dark.

Satisfied that you're awake, Jaehwan straightens and begins to gather your bags. Alarmed, you bolt upright.

“What's going on?” You immediately begin to shove your feet back into your boots, confused by his haste.

“There are Swords on the train, we're getting off here.” Jaehwan kneels again to help you with your packing, as your hands have suddenly gotten very shaky.

_There are Swords on the train_. Swords, capital S. Royal guards sworn in service of the king, likely out for your blood.

“How do you know? How are they here?” The panic crawls up your throat, choking your breath.

Jaehwan takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. “All very good questions for later.” He slings his shoulder bag across his back and takes your suitcase in hand. Signaling you to wait a moment, he peeks out the door to the hallway.

Motioning for you to come along, he swiftly opens the door and strides down the hall to the nearest exit. Bags in tow, the two of you step out into cool night air. The platform is largely quiet, manned by a skeleton crew of overnight attendants guiding the few passengers off to their destinations.

Jaehwan wastes no time looking around and immediately heads for the exit, making you scramble to keep up. The platform is raised high above the city, and the two of you take a long staircase down to street level. Jaehwan easily takes the steps two at a time in his hurry, but your descent is not quite as graceful as you run after him.

Once on the street, he quickly scans the signs, apparently looking for a particular direction. The streets are similarly still. When in Armistice you’d occasionally see tourists and party-goers wandering around until the early hours of the morning, here the only glimpses of life are a couple of passed out panhandlers and the fluorescent glow from a 24-hour diner. Hands on hips, you bend over slightly to catch your breath. Your patience is admittedly running rather thin, and you have to try not to yell.

“Where exactly are we?”

“The Tuvan Republic. This city’s called Douvarak,” Jaehwan mutters in response. “There's a car rental around here somewhere.”

You tense a bit, realizing you’re many, many kilometers away from Asadal, with the king’s lapdogs after you. You’re not quite sure how long it is to the border or how to get there, and you feel a sense of dread settle over your skin at the thought of relying on a man you’ve really only just met.

Jaehwan apparently decides on a direction and starts walking again, grabbing your hand to make sure you're following. You slip your hand out from his grasp, but keep pace with his, walking quickly to match his long strides.

“And where exactly are we going?”

“I told you, car rental,” he responds smoothly.

You roll your eyes in annoyance at his non-answer. “Where are we _going_? I thought the train was the plan. Can you even drive?”

Jaehwan seems amused at your rapid-fire speech. “What, you don't trust me?” he asks, grinning.

“I barely know you,” you respond, adjusting your backpack, calves burning from the walk. “I trust Hakyeon. For the most part.”

“Well, call this one of Hakyeon's contingencies.”

You're skeptical, but follow along quietly, casting a wary eye to the few other passersby. A couple more streets later you arrive at a large car park. The lights are off in the attendant’s booth, but thankfully there seems to be an automated kiosk.

Jaehwan inserts the so-called royal card and swipes through the options. You stand idly by, tapping your foot impatiently.

“How do you know the Swords were on the train?” You're still confused and more than a little irritated at how in the dark you are.

“Saw them,” Jaehwan says, not looking up from the screen. “They must have boarded sometime before this stop. You fell asleep, so I was checking the halls.”

The kiosk makes a series of beeping noises and spits out a small key fob with several buttons on it. Grabbing it, Jaehwan starts walking to the long rows of parked cars.

“You recognized them?” You follow along, brows furrowed.

He nods in answer, still scanning for the right car. “They definitely work for the king. They were peeking into the compartments, searching for you, I assume.” He apparently finds it, sleek and silver, and taps the driver's side door with the key fob. The lights turn on with a beep and the doors unlock.

You toss the bags into the back, still processing this information. The immediate panic has drained away, leaving you tired and with an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

The two of you slide in, and Jaehwan starts the car, the engine nearly silent. You had never actually learned to drive, relying on public transport, and you could count the number of people you know with a car on one hand. The interior is all leather and twinkling indicator lights.

You're chewing on your bottom lip, lost in thought as Jaehwan pulls out of the lot. The dashboard clock tells you that it's a little after four in the morning, almost a full day after you originally left home. A sinking thought occurs to you as you’re mulling over the predicament.

“Do you think something happened to Hakyeon?” you ask quietly. “Is that how they found out about me?”

Jaehwan’s brows are furrowed as he fiddles with the on-board navigation. He shakes his head. “I don't know. He instructed me not to contact him while getting you home, just in case it's traced.”

This does nothing to assuage your fears, and it must show, because Jaehwan offers you a smile.

“Don't worry about Hakyeon,” he says soothingly. “He's survived in court this long, he can take care of himself.”

You shake your head, staring out at the darkened road. “Nothing about this feels right. Not coming back, not Hakyeon's hare-brained ideas.”

“Then why are you here?” Jaehwan looks at you sidelong, and while his tone isn't accusatory, you still feel a little defensive.

“I don't have to justify myself to you,” you respond, trying not to sound petulant. Nothing about this is right. But Hakyeon is your cousin, and the only person you have still considered to be family.

“ _Understood_ ,” Jaehwan says just as petulant, drawing out the syllables.

You try to bite it back, but his childish whine makes you smile. Jaehwan has this annoying ability to make you smile against your will, and you’re getting used to it too quickly for your liking.

It's quiet as the car turns onto the highway. The navigation built into the center console glows in muted blues and browns, illustrating your route through the unfamiliar country. Douvarak falls away to dark plains with a silver river running through, dotted in the distance with faint glows of more cities you can’t name. Geography was never your strong suit.

“How did you recognize the men on the train?” you ask, trying to fill the silence.

“They’re a couple of my old squad mates.” His tone is nonchalant, but you bristle in alarm.

“You’re one of _them_?” Your voice is low but you can't help the whine of panic in your mind. “You’re in the king’s special forces?”

“ _Was_ ,” Jaehwan clarifies. “Past tense.”

“Why would you join the Swords?” The revelation casts a shadow on all your interactions with Jaehwan, as you're constantly reminded that you really don't know this man. You glance quickly, stupidly, to the locked door and the rushing scenery, the car feeling more and more like a trap. “How do I know you're not working for the king?”

He's unfazed by your distress, eyes trained on the road in front. “I thought you trusted Hakyeon?”

“My cousin isn't infallible.” You inspect the man in the driver's seat as best you can in the low light. Between his bleach-blond hair, messy from travel and growing out at the roots, and his casual dress of a black turtleneck and leather jacket, he doesn't strike you as one of the king's goons. You're now becoming quite used to his full lips being curled in an easy smile, eyes crinkled in laughter, but looks could be deceiving.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Princess,” he says, making an awkward salute with one hand. “I am your gallant knight in shining armor, dutifully saving you from the bad guys.” He giggles at his own impression, and you scowl in response.

“I asked you not to call me ‘Princess’,” you mutter, turning away to stare out your window. The title makes your skin crawl with anxiety.

Jaehwan sighs. “You're insistent you're not a princess, but I don't know what else to call a young lady of the royal family.” His playful tone strikes a nerve.

“I lost my crown years ago.” You don't mean to adopt as harsh a voice as you do, but you're talking partially to yourself now, gripping the leather of your seat with a tense hand. “I lost my family, I lost the throne, I lost _everything_.” They washed away in the waters of the river and you came out a different person.

Jaehwan has nothing to say in response, and you allow the silence and memories to lull you into a fitful sleep.

Dawn breaks a rainy gray as you pass through the border into official Asadali territory. There is no flash of realization or prophetic moment once you’ve made your triumphant return to your homeland. In fact, were it not for the copious signage welcoming you to the Kingdom of Asadal and the immigration control booths in the distance, this could be any stretch of dirt in the world.

 

* * *

 

While the Tuvan Republic rolls into Gwasong Province in cracked earth and distant mountains, your heart thuds faster and faster at the encroaching guard houses. The king has clearly been looking for you, and you’re terrified to find out what’s waiting for you. To your surprise and mild bafflement, nothing really happens, the two of you passing through with little more than a flash of Jaehwan's ID to a bored guard. At the very least the usual border security should have checked the car. Most nations had adopted open border policies nowadays, but you'd expected even a modicum of inspection. You idly mention as such to Jaehwan, who doesn't respond immediately, but just keeps driving with a faraway look in his eyes.

Jaehwan has veered off the official highway onto a lesser traveled back road some ten minutes later before he answers. “The border guards have been recalled by the king. The auxiliary guards are under the magistrate’s control, and right now they’re tied up protecting his properties and business.”

You furrow your brows, confused and disturbed by your uncle’s actions and the irresponsibility of the magistrate. “I don’t understand. Since when is Magistrate Maeda a businessman and since when does he use state resources for his own things?” 

“Magistrate Maeda no longer governs Gwasong. Magistrate Shin took over nearly seven years ago. He owns and operates a spring water bottling company.” 

Even more confusing. “Okay . . . what happened to Magistrate Maeda?”

“Dead.” Jaehwan doesn’t elaborate but your nightmares fill in the blanks for you.

“So there hasn’t been proper government presence in these areas?” You didn't know what you'd find back in your homeland, but anarchy certainly isn't it.

Jaehwan scoffs in a darkened impression of the laughter you're getting used to. “Oh, the king makes his presence very clear. When there are taxes to collect or a protest to shut down. But he doesn't really care who comes in through here or what the magistrate does.” What little humor there is leaves his face as he continues. “The Capital is a different story.”

“Will we have trouble getting in?” you ask, alarmed further.

He shakes his head. “Hakyeon made arrangements. We're supposed to go around to the mountains instead of using the river,” he explains, but you hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You decide you need to have a serious talk with your cousin about his masterminding your life. Everything about his plans feels like a gamble to you. You don't remember him being this much of a risk-taker, which leads you think he must truly be desperate.

The traffic very slowly increases as you travel through Gwasong. Jaehwan sticks to the local roads, staying off the more-traveled highways and taking you through more rural towns. Royal tours in your childhood generally stuck to the major cities, so it’s with an intense curiosity that you watch the passing scenery. There’s not a lot you remember of the provinces beyond the stereotypes that any child grows up with and the cursory notes from your civics tutor. Northerners talk weird and drink their tea too sweet, in the south the people don’t get anything done before noon. You remember your mother always wanting to visit the tea gardens in Gwasong.

It gets more crowded the closer you are to the inner belt. The provinces circling the Capital are smaller, but much more densely populated, making Jaehwan’s route trickier as he tries to avoid the larger towns. He peers at the navigation, yawning and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You’ve been skirting around one of the larger cities in Seochon Province for the past hour, blending into the local traffic.

“What’s that?”

You cringe at your own breaking of the heavy silence that had settled between the two of you, but your curiosity outweighs the tension in this moment.

“What’s what?” Jaehwan is almost too focused on the road, in his own world.

You straighten from where you’d been slumped against the window. “The tents. Why are there so many tents?”

You’re followed along on your side of the road by an elevated train platform. Woven between base of the pillars are numerous tents, some of them haphazardly reinforced with cardboard and scraps of sheet metal. The structures remind you of the footage from various music festivals, but the people shuffling about certainly aren’t trendy teenagers. They’re a motley combination of people, from old men and women to small children running about. It’s hard to tear your eyes away from the small pop-up village as you’re stopped at a red light, watching the people take shelter from the rain under the platform and huddle around the scattered campfires.

“Refugees,” comes Jaehwan’s reply to your left.

“We have _refugees?_ ” You narrow your eyes as the light turns green and the scene fades away. Did you miss a war while in exile? “When did we take in refugees?”

“We didn’t. They’re from Minami Province probably. Maybe Namsu.”

_These are citizens?_ Your eyes narrow further. “Why are they here? And not in shelters or something?”

Jaehwan exhales a long breath and glances at you. “Your uncle's made life difficult for a lot of people. Unfortunately everyone can’t have a prince cousin to help them out.”

You grit your teeth, his words hitting you like an accusation. “I didn’t _ask_ for—” You stop yourself abruptly, feeling like you've taken some sort of bait. “Regardless. They should be in proper housing.”

“That they should.” Jaehwan has the smallest of smiles on his face which splits into a mighty yawn. He rubs at his eyes briefly and sniffs, readjusting his grip on the wheel. “It isn't up to us, unfortunately. The northern provinces have little interest in caring for a bunch of strays, as it is.”

Staring out at the wet road ahead and contemplating what you’ve just seen, your anxiety climbs a notch. You’re no stranger to seeing people in poverty, spending so many years in the world’s largest city, but seeing it at home is a rough shock, especially in comparison to your gilded childhood. Each question Jaehwan answers produces a dozen more as you’re realizing there’s so much going on in the kingdom you’ve missed during your uncle’s reign. This is probably a conversation best saved for your cousin, among many others. It’s been countless hours since the comforts of your cozy little apartment and you’re both physically and mentally exhausted.

Jaehwan isn't fond of stopping on long drives, it seems. Or maybe he's anxious to get you back to Hakyeon, you think. Whichever it is, he hasn't stopped driving since the Tuvan Republic, and somewhere around his fourth yawn in under half an hour you feel something resembling guilt. It has absolutely nothing to do with the general hostility you've been displaying toward him thus far, you reason, and everything to do with your overbearing cousin and his tendency to order people about. Whatever the source of your sudden concern, a pause would do you both some good.

“Maybe we could stop for a little bit, grab some coffee.”

Jaehwan shakes his head at your suggestion. “This isn't the kind of place to be stopping.”

“Not safe enough for my big, bad bodyguard?” you say, glancing at him sidelong. You're not exactly itching to get captured by royal guards or whatever the danger may be, but being cooped up like this is rough on your patience.

He lets out a mirthless chuckle for your benefit. “Something like that.”

You frown. Nothing about the locale seems outwardly dangerous to you, the charms of dirty city streets aside. Perhaps a change in strategy is required. “I could  _super_ use a walk to stretch my legs and a bathroom break. Do I need to pull the ‘Princess’ card?”

“Hey!” whines Jaehwan, an affronted pout on his lips. “You can't tell me not to call you that and then pull rank, that's unfair.”

“Or I could just tell Hakyeon you were mean to me.” You feel silly, with your arms crossed and tongue sticking out at Jaehwan, threatening him with the wrath of your cousin. But it's kind of nice to feel silly.

If nothing else, it gets Jaehwan to laugh properly for the first time in a little while, which oddly makes you feel better. You're expecting a clever retort, but he rewards your endeavors a few minutes later by pulling into a charging station. Sandwiched between a fenced-in empty lot and a rusty warehouse, it isn’t the nicest of service areas you’ve been in.

There are no attendants, so Jaehwan gets out and sets about plugging the stall’s charging cable to the car himself. You hobble out of the car awkwardly, trying to massage some feeling back into your legs and taking a few experimental steps forward. The streets are busy in the middle of the day, even here in the outskirts of the city. There’s a guy idling against his own car, an older model and rather beat-up looking, a few stalls over, while a steady stream of pedestrians file in and out of the attached convenience store. You stalk around to Jaehwan’s side, watching as he fastens the cable lock and slides in the credit card.

“Does the recharge take long?” you ask with genuine curiosity. You really don’t have a lot of experience with cars, much less the upkeep of one.

Jaehwan smiles and shakes his head. “Nah, these modern superchargers are pretty good at cutting down recharge time. We also haven’t used too much of the battery so far. We’ve got, maybe, ten minutes?”

You shrug. “Sure. We’ll be in and out.” You wrinkle your nose at your surroundings and frown. “The way you went on about it, I thought there’d be guards all over the place.”

“There’s more than just the king to be afraid of.”

With another shrug, you start heading toward the store, figuring you can at least kill some time finding lunch. The rain has let up since you entered Asadal, but you’re still thankful for the canopy overhead protecting you from the drizzle. Arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, you’re lost in thought when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Immediately, Jaehwan is there, with a hand on your back putting himself between you and a bedraggled stranger. You’re startled by the sudden appearance of a man to your left who has his hand awkwardly in the air. By the look of his worn jacket and unshaven face, you can tell he’s probably been on the streets for a while now.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” the man trails off, wide eyes taking in Jaehwan’s imposing presence. “I was hoping you kids might have some spare change?”

You open your mouth to answer, but before you can gently turn him down, Jaehwan has pushed you through the automatic doors to the store. You whirl around angrily, watching the man walk away to a corner of the lot.

“What was that about? He just wanted some change.”

“Best not to talk to strangers, you know?” Jaehwan says with a quirk of his mouth.

The frown is heavy on your lips as you stare him down. “I don’t appreciate being pushed around.”  

Jaehwan holds your gaze, looking down at you with an even smile. “I’m only here on orders from _your_ very pushy cousin to keep you safe and deliver you home.”

And with those words as reminder, the fight leaves you in one fell swoop. For all his friendliness and jokes, Jaehwan is just here on behalf of Hakyeon. You sniff and turn on your heel, finding yourself unable to come up with an appropriate response. Bathroom break it is, then.

To your dismay, you're once again being followed to the bathrooms toward the very back of the store, and before you can utter your complaints, Jaehwan fixes you with a stern look.

“We're in Asadal now, I can't let you out of my sight.” When you raise an eyebrow and point to the sign that says _Women_ , he grimaces and corrects himself. “So to speak.”

Rolling your eyes, you leave him awkwardly standing next to the bathroom. Questionably cleaned stalls aside, you’re grateful to not be stuck in the car, even if it’s for a little bit. When you return, Jaehwan is leaning up against one of the beverage coolers, head tilted back and eyes closed. With his hair falling ever so daintily over his eyes, you'd almost find him attractive if you weren't so annoyed at him.

With a huff, you rush past to the little sandwich counter. You order two coffees and some sandwiches from the bored looking teenager manning the register, paying for them yourself before Jaehwan has the chance to pull out the royal credit card.

You push a coffee and a sandwich into Jaehwan's hands, noting that he's been watching you with a look of amusement.

“Can't get me to my pushy cousin if you die of starvation,” you grumble, leaving for the car. You hear him laugh as he follows you, and without meaning to it makes you feel a little better in a way. You're halfway to the charging stalls when you realize the man from before is still in his corner, sitting on a milk crate by himself. Without really thinking about it, you start walking toward him.

“Princess.” Jaehwan has a hand wrapped around your wrist and a warning in his eyes.

You meet his gaze, unflinching. “Jaehwan. Please.” It kills you to ask for any sort of permission, but you won't be able to sleep again for a while if you do nothing.

He releases you, expressionless and waiting. You turn back and approach the stranger who doesn't notice you with his lapels turned up against the breeze.

“Excuse me?” The man doesn’t immediately look up, so you clear your throat and try again. “Um, sir?”

His head snaps up as he meets your eyes with his own bloodshot ones. He cracks open a smile to reveal yellowed teeth, one of the upper canines missing. “The girl from before! What can I help you with?”

You hold out your coffee and sandwich, which he immediately takes from you. “It’s not money,” you start hesitantly, watching as he quickly unwraps the sandwich. “But I figured you could use a meal.”

He nods, gulping down two bites of the sandwich faster than you can believe. “Thank you, miss,” he gasps between swallows.

The man doesn’t bother saying anything else, as busy as he is with his morsel. You give him an awkward nod and turn back to the car. Jaehwan is already seated, watching you with mild interest. You plop down with a sigh, caught off guard when Jaehwan hands you half his own sandwich.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

You settle into your seat as Jaehwan scarfs down the sandwich one handed, eager to get back on the road. You nibble on your half more slowly, pensive.

“No.” You shrug, not sure what to say as justification. “I just felt bad. And you didn’t have to treat him like a threat. The guy was just hungry.”

Jaehwan sighs almost patronizingly. “Desperate people can easily become threats. The migrants hang around major cities, displaced and unemployed. A lot of them turn to less savory methods to get by.”

You frown deeply as the two of you return to the road. You’re so tired, and this entire experience is so surreal. You just wanted to get by with your mediocre corporate job, doing your best to blend into the life of everyday people. And then Hakyeon came and ruined it all and saddled you with this man who unsettles you in the strangest way.

“You were a Sword,” you say, more to yourself than anything else. You wonder how your cousin came to be such good friends with one of the King’s guards that he’d entrust your safety to him.

Jaehwan is quiet for the time being, focusing on his route through the city. It's midday now in Seochon on the western edge of the inner belt, and the streets are busy with travelers. Despite blending into the stream of cars and trucks, a part of you still feels like you're being watched.

“I was, at a time,” he answers finally.

“Not an easy position to get.” The formal, stuffy title, the Crown’s Swordsmen and Guards, belies the tough nature of the royal family’s personal armed forces. You remember your father's own guard team, all made up of grizzly men of the Swords. It's hard to picture Jaehwan among them.

“No, it's not,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. At your continued staring, Jaehwan shrugs and elaborates. “I didn't know what to do with my life. My brothers already had the family business handled, and no one really expected anything of me. So,” he continues, “I applied to military school and then joined the Swords.” He grins and adds, “My mom nearly had a heart attack.”

“But you left?”

He nods. “Military life wasn't really for me, at the end of the day. I did some private security for a while, but then Hakyeon called with a favor to ask and now I'm here.”

“Lucky me.” You're not sure if you mean this to be sarcastic or not, but Jaehwan grins and glances at you.

“Lucky you.”

 

* * *

 

You get to the guard houses surrounding the Capital by nightfall. Swinging around to the western mountains flanking the city rather than crossing the Yuseong River had added several hours to your trip, but Jaehwan assured that it was all part of the plan. You repeat this to yourself in the tunnel through the mountains in an attempt to calm your nerves, but it does little to help in the face of the encroaching city. Jaehwan exudes a stillness that seems relaxed, but you can tell his jaw is clenched, grip tight on the steering wheel as the city walls approach. The glittering lights and buildings loom above you, but you're focused mostly on how different it all seems from what you remember. You didn't spend a lot of time in the city proper, mostly having lived at Starfall Palace outside the city, but it all feels so much bigger and more expansive to you now.

Jaehwan pulls up to the gate, which opens automatically on approach. The walls are a beautiful polished stone, thick and several stories high, but you can see the various cameras and security devices embedded into them. You're idly wondering if they looked like this in your father's time when the gates shut behind you. The front is also closed off, obviously to allow for inspection of the arrivals, but it gives you the unsettling feeling of being in a cage.

A security officer steps out from the booth to side, speaking through Jaehwan's open window. “Identification, please.”

Jaehwan pulls out his ID card and hands it over, then reaches into a pocket inside his jacket to pull out some folded papers. “I also have with me a foreign national. Her paperwork has been approved by the prince.”

The guard unfolds the documents, which you realize have a copy of your Armistice ID on them. You'd be alarmed at how Hakyeon had gotten his hands on that if you were not currently so nervous. The guard returns to his booth to scan Jaehwan's ID and your papers, and you're doing your best to remember to breathe. To your immense relief, the gates open, and the guard returns to hand back the items.

“Please enjoy your stay in the Capital.”

Jaehwan thanks the guard and makes to drive off when the guard ducks down to look through the window directly at you with a beatific smile.

“And welcome back, Princess.”


	5. Auguries

Your heart still hasn't left your throat by the time Jaehwan pulls into the subterranean garage of a very tall skyscraper. He drives through several security checkpoints, each requiring a swipe of his ID and a numerical key entered on a nearby pad, but very little of this actually registers.

_He knows._

How is this possible? Were you tailed by the men on the train? There is a singular thought running through your mind as you clench and unclench your hands, still frozen in your seat.

_The king knows I’m here_.

Jaehwan finally arrives at an empty parking spot by a set of elevators. He turns off the engine and sighs, running a hand over his face. He hasn't said anything since entering the city, but by his expression you think he's just as distressed at the turn of events. It's quiet for a moment as the two of you sit, exhausted by your journey and weighed down with worries. Jaehwan finally breaks the silence.

“Well then, let's have a chat with our dear prince, shall we?” He opens his door and swings his legs out. You're still stuck in your seat staring at the floor, so mired in dread that you don't notice when Jaehwan opens your door for you, laden with your bags. It takes a call of your name for you to finally snap back to reality.

You look at his outstretched hand and extend yours, allowing yourself to be pulled up.

“Are you okay?” Jaehwan asks gently. Your hand is still in his, and some disconnected part of you idly notes how small your hand feels in his grip.

“I'm fine.” You quickly take your hand back and cross your arms, feeling cold all of a sudden. “Where are we?”

“Your dear cousin’s throne. Hakyeon's waiting for us upstairs.” He strides over to the elevators and pushes a button, calling one down. The doors open to elegant carpeting and a mirrored ceiling. You expect a panel of buttons for each floor, but instead there is yet another keypad. Jaehwan enters in a code, and the elevator takes off, unsettling your balance momentarily.

You lean against the cool glass wall of the elevator for support. Between the traveling and being on constant guard, you want nothing more than a shower and a soft bed. But you know there are some long overdue words to be had with your cousin first.

The elevator dings softly as the doors open, revealing a well-lit hallway with a single door at the end. Leading you out, Jaehwan presses the doorbell next to the entry keypad. The chime barely hits the first note before the door is yanked open, revealing a harried looking Hakyeon. Dark circles under his eyes and wearing a wrinkled dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the prince looks like he hasn't slept in a while.

“I was expecting you this morning,” he says in way of a greeting.

“We had some complications,” Jaehwan says, pushing past the prince into the apartment. Hakyeon steps aside, holding the door open for you and giving you a concerned look.

“Is everything okay?”

You merely shake your head, stepping through. A first look at the place makes your jaw drop open despite your exhaustion. Laid out in an open plan, the penthouse apartment is dripping in chrome and glass and stone from floor to ceiling, with a spiraling staircase leading to a second floor and a full wall of glass looking over the sprawling Capital city. Hakyeon shuts the door behind himself and grins at your expression.

“It's yours.”

His words catch you off guard. “What?”

“This apartment. It's yours.”

You look around. You're still standing in the entryway, barely having taken two steps inside. On one side is what seems to be a fully stocked kitchen with glossy stone surfaces and steel appliances, and on the other a living room with leather sectionals and a large screen mounted on the far wall.

“I don't understand,” you say blankly, shaking your head.

“I have a number of safe houses set up throughout the city, and a couple out in the provinces,” he explains. “I set this one up specifically for you. It's a ten-minute walk to the TirTech branch here so you can still go to work if you want.”

Hakyeon looks rather proud of himself, smiling at you benevolently. You shake your head again, muttering under your breath. “Damn rich people.”

This elicits a laugh from Jaehwan, who is descending the staircase, apparently having dropped your bags off upstairs.

“You're technically one of those damn rich people, you know,” he says, hands in pockets and shoulder bag still slung around his back. Jaehwan claps Hakyeon on the shoulder and heads toward the door. “I really need a shower and new clothes, I'll be back in a bit.”

You watch his retreating figure, trying to process all this new information. “Where is he going?” you ask idly.

“He has a place a couple floors down.” Hakyeon has a hand at your back, gently steering you inward. “Are you hungry? I haven't ordered dinner yet, what would you like?”

You stop, turning around to face him abruptly. “Hakyeon, I need answers. The king knows I'm here.”

He frowns. “How do you know?”

“There were men on the train looking for me, we had to get off and drive the rest of the way,” you sigh. “The city guard knew who I am.”

His frown deepens with worry. “How is that possible?”

“You tell me, this was your plan!” Your shout echoes through the empty apartment. This entire city feels like a trap to you, as if the king's soldiers might burst through the door as you speak. You purse your lips and bite down to keep them from trembling.

Hakyeon softly calls your name and takes your hand. “Everything will be okay, alright?” he says, leaning down to look you in the eye. “I promised you would be safe. The king doesn't know of this place, I'm sure of it. You're safe here.”

The gentle swipes of his thumb over the back of your hand are meant to be soothing, but everything is sensory overload for you right now. The bright apartment, the unfamiliar city outside, everything. You take your hand out of his and back away a step.

Hakyeon doesn't press forward, recognizing that you need some space. “I know you're overwhelmed. We can take it one step at a time, okay?” His voice is soft and low, as if speaking to a feral cat.

You'd be offended at his patronizing if you weren't so busy getting a grip of yourself. You nod finally in acquiescence, managing to calm your heart a touch.

“Would you like to shower and get changed?” he ventures tentatively. “There's a room for you upstairs.”

You nod again, not knowing what to say. Smiling at his breakthrough, Hakyeon motions for you to follow. You're led up the spiraling glass staircase to the second floor.

The landing has a pair of lounge chairs outside a glass door revealing a wide balcony. Hakyeon turns to your immediate right and opens a door, holding it open for you to step through. The room is simply furnished with a bed, a desk, and a dresser, all trimmed in varying shades of blue, gray and black. You absently wonder if Hakyeon had picked out the interior decoration himself.

“There's a bathroom through there,” he says, indicating a door in the far right corner. “There should be plenty of towels and things, but yell if you need anything. I'll be downstairs, so just come down whenever you're ready. Is that okay?” Hakyeon is still looking at you as if you're going to start shouting at him again, and you feel a little bad.

“That's fine, Hakyeon. Thank you,” you say tiredly, sincerely. “I'll come down soon.”

He beams, pleased to have gotten something right. “Take your time!” he chirps. He heads back down, closing the bedroom door behind himself, leaving you alone in the empty room.

 

* * *

 

A half hour later you're descending the stairs again, freshly showered and changed into a pair of soft pajamas brought from home. With all the strangeness about your new surroundings, the smell of your laundry detergent emanating from your clothes gives you a strange sense of comfort.

You're halfway down the stairs, in the process of toweling your hair dry, when you hear Jaehwan's voice. Changed into a new sweater and hair fluffy from his own shower, he's speaking to Hakyeon too low and too rapidly for you to make out what's being said. From the mutinous expression on Jaehwan’s face, however, you can only assume there is a fierce argument happening. Your head quirks to the side in fascination without your approval. An angry Jaehwan is a peculiar sight, his jaw clenched and eyes blazing. Before you can even process the novelty, your approaching footsteps alert the men to your presence, and Jaehwan immediately drops the scowl for his usual easy-going expression.

Hakyeon whirls around to face you, arms full of papers. “Ah, you're just in time,” he says quickly, plastering a smile on his face. “I was just clearing off the table for dinner.” He roughly nudges Jaehwan who has a stack of plates in hand. When Hakyeon turns his back to move his laptop, Jaehwan makes a face and mimes hitting him over the head with a plate.

You hold back a snort of laughter as you grab some of Hakyeon's documents in an attempt to help. They look like official state letters bearing the royal seal. “What is all this stuff?” you ask, turning one over.

Hakyeon hastily takes the letters from you, neatly stacking them at the far end of the glass dining table. “I've been receiving correspondences from Taekwoon. He's stationed with the court of Imsal.”

“Taekwoon?”

“Jung Taekwoon, you remember him, don't you?” Papers safely stowed away, Hakyeon starts removing several takeout containers from their bags. “Jaehwan, grab some spoons, would you?”

“Vaguely,” you answer slowly. A face swims to the forefront of your memories, a boy all sharp angles and averted gaze. “What's he doing in Imsal?”

“He's on official court business,” Hakyeon answers simply, pulling a chair out for you.

The curt response raises more questions than it answers. You’ve never been to the southern kingdom, in many ways considered a brother to your own. Limited travel opportunities aside, the post-war relations in your little corner of the world haven’t been the friendliest. You're not sure if Taekwoon being there is a sign of improvement or of something worse to come.

“You dragged me back for a reason, Hakyeon. What's going on?” you ask, frowning.

“All in due time,” he responds, handing you a plate and spoon. “Dinner first. I ordered curry, but I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a bit of everything.”

By the looks of the table, you think he might have bought out the entire restaurant. Jaehwan has already started digging into a large plate of rice and chicken, so you give up and serve yourself some as well. Hakyeon smiles so wide you think you've just made his entire night simply by feeding yourself. He sits himself next to you with his own plate, looking like a doting father watching over his unruly children. You have to hold back a smile at the silly thought as he turns to Jaehwan.

“How was your time in the Federation?”

“He stalked me at work,” you say casually before Jaehwan can answer, thinking back to the time he showed up uninvited to the cafe.

Jaehwan coughs, apparently having inhaled some chicken. Clearing his throat, he fixes you with a deep pout. “I was not stalking you.”

Hakyeon furrows his brows. “What's this about?”

“Is that not what it's called when someone follows you around?” You take a spoonful of curry, still the picture of innocence.

“You asked me to keep an eye on her!” Jaehwan complains in Hakyeon's general direction. “She's just upset her coworker thought we make a cute couple.”

It's your turn to choke on your food as Jaehwan's words bring an embarrassed heat to your cheeks. “That's not true!”

Jaehwan raises his brows and turns back to his plate. “I rest my case.”

Hakyeon chews slowly, eyeing both of you. “I'm starting to think this was a bad decision.”

He's answered with a dramatic eye roll from Jaehwan. “I got us both to the Capital in one piece, I'd consider that a job well done,” Jaehwan says, looking like a squirrel with his food tucked away in one cheek as he speaks.

“About that,” Hakyeon starts, suddenly all business. “I intend to find out how exactly our plans were leaked. The king should never have known your whereabouts.”

Jaehwan is silent, busying himself with his dinner. You suddenly lose all appetite, anxiety crawling its way up your spine.

“What are we going to do?” you ask softly.

“We will figure it out,” Hakyeon assures. “I made you a promise, I intend to keep it.”

You shake your head, confused and overwhelmed. “What am I even doing here, Hakyeon? What’s _going on?_ ” It's true you haven't kept up with current events as much as you should, but surely you would have noticed a collapse of your homeland.

Hakyeon lays down his spoon, folding his hands together on the glass tabletop. “I'm unsure where to start. The whole situation is a mess.”

“The border had no security,” you prompt, remembering the ease you had entering the country. “They didn’t so much as look at me, but then we went circled around half the kingdom trying to get here.”

Hakyeon sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “My father has been pulling more and more province guards over the past few years. They all head down south and disappear, and the magistrates have made no move against him.”

Politics and court movements were never your interest as a child, but even you can tell this is an ominous sign. “They just, disappear? The Council approves of this?”

Recognizing your surprise, Hakyeon explains. “A lot has changed since your father's time. After your parents’ deaths and your—” Here, he falters, unable to find the right words. “Well, after all that, my father ended up replacing most of the High Council.”

“And the magistrates?” you ask.

Hakyeon shakes his head. “The same deal. One or two remain from uncle's appointment, but the rest are all my father's lackeys. They may pretend to be operating in their own interests, but they’ll roll over the second father says to.”

You feel a sense of foreboding. The magistrates generally support the royal family, of course. But the noble houses in charge of the kingdom’s provinces had never been your father’s “lackeys”.

“In the meantime,” Hakyeon continues, “these new magistrates have been sucking the kingdom dry of whatever resource or industry they can get their hands on, and honestly, who knows what the Swords have been up to?”

Your eyes shift to Jaehwan briefly, only the crown of his head visible as he bends over his plate. None of this had ever appeared in any of the headlines you occasionally read back in Armistice.

“So, who is actually protecting the people?” you ask. You’re reminded of the bedraggled man at the charging station, so grateful over a cheap sandwich. These people aren’t technically _your_ subjects, but you’d spent many a hungry, lonely night yourself in the days after leaving the kingdom.

Hakyeon makes a face and runs his hand through his hair. “That,” he says, sighing, “is a very good question. The guards aren’t all gone, but for the most part they’re prioritized to protect nobles and the oligarchs.”

“Where are all the protests then? The citizens can’t be tolerating that.” You have half a mind to grab a picket sign yourself, but that half is rather quickly shouted down when you remember where you are.

He leans back and crosses his arms. “Not in the Capital. The king has a tight grip on the central and inner belt of the provinces. The southern residents aren’t quite as happy though.” Hakyeon's face is dark as he relays the news. “Protests, vandalism, assaults — there’s even been word of rioting. This unrest can’t go on much longer.”

You frown heavily, not sure what to make of the information. “The king won’t abide that for long. What’s he playing at?”

Hakyeon sighs. “I don't pretend to understand any of my father's insanity. But I do know one thing.” He sits up straight and gives you a significant look. “Between the civil unrest and my father's negligence, the people are ready for a new ruler.”

Jaehwan scoffs, the first sound you've heard out of the normally talkative blond in a while. He pushes back his chair heavily and takes his plate to the kitchen.

You're staring at him, even more confused, when Hakyeon places a hand over yours.

“I never thanked you for coming all this way. Your help will be invaluable.”

Wiggling your hand free, you sigh exasperatedly. “Hakyeon, you never actually told me what I'm supposed to be doing.”

“For now, just rest.” Hakyeon stands and collects your abandoned plate, starting to clear the table again. “We can talk more about it in the morning.”

For a second you think about yelling again. It's a shock to your system to have spent so many years on your own, only for Hakyeon now to be treating you like a complete child. Mustering all your remaining patience, you say nothing. You’ve never known Hakyeon to take well to pushing, and there’s more than one way to obtain information. Taking this as your dismissal, you leave for bed without another word.

 

* * *

 

An hour later you push your laptop away in frustration, irritated at just how little you’ve managed to uncover. Hakyeon has helpfully supplied you with the wifi password, written on a note stuck to the bedside table complete with a smiley face in his curling, easy handwriting. Taking advantage of this, you’d hit the internet, hoping to find some news of what’s happening in the kingdom. To your dismay, there are no reports of any protests down south, or any word of where the guards are going. You are rewarded, however, with several stories of a Lord Jingyi’s second wedding and an article on some actress’ foray into the world of esports.

You throw the sheets off yourself in a huff, unable to sit still any longer. Wrapping yourself in a ratty old cardigan from home, you descend the stairs again, only to find Hakyeon still sitting at the table, typing away on a laptop. He's alone, so you assume Jaehwan has left for his own apartment. The lights are dimmed, making the city below glitter through the floor to ceiling windows. It strikes you how dark the Capital seems. Where Armistice was awash in neon pinks and yellows and blues, the Capital shines in muted grays and sickly whites.

You approach the table slowly, trying not to startle the prince who has his back turned. “What are you working on?”

Hakyeon jumps a little in his seat despite your efforts, turning around. “I thought you were asleep,” he says, frowning.

You shake your head. “Couldn't get comfortable.” Leaning toward the laptop screen, you see a familiar diagnostic tool you use to analyze the contents of various files at work. “Are you trying to crack something?”

“Oh, yes.” Hakyeon turns back around, tilting the screen so you can see it a little easier from where you're standing. “This data is encrypted with something I've never used before. I'm not sure what it is or how to go about opening it up, honestly.”

Squinting at the screen, you run through a list of possibilities in your head. You could brute force it, trying all the cracks you have on your laptop, but it might take forever. If only you had access to the systems at work. “I could take a whack at it if you want,” you offer.

“Would you? To be frank, I am way in over my head,” Hakyeon admits.

“Yes, the elderly and technology don't mix well in my experience,” you tease, biting back a smile.

Hakyeon glares. “Hey, I'm only three years older than you.”

“Yikes, you're even older than I thought — I thought it was two.” Laughing at his deepening pout, you turn to the glass wall.

The lights of the Capital twinkle back at you through your darkened reflection. You're pensive, the laugh dying on your lips. “I don't recognize any of this,” you say to yourself softly.

You watch Hakyeon's reflection stand to join you at the window, arms crossed.

“A lot has changed in the past ten years.” His words feel like a warning, and you can't help the chill that runs up your spine.

“What's that?” you ask, nodding toward a dark tower. It looms over the rest of the city, the glass obsidian against the night sky.

Hakyeon's eyes narrow in a glare. “That,” he spits, “is my father's official seat.”

“Is that where…?” You can't bring yourself to finish the thought.

Hakyeon nods, lips drawn in a tight line. “My father built it over the ruins of the Assembly House.”

You clench your teeth, torn between anger and sorrow. The king sits upon your parents’ ashes, wearing the crown that was meant to be yours. You tear yourself away from the window as your gaze becomes watery. Feeling rather pathetic, you hold back a sniffle and blink rapidly.

“I really do appreciate your being here,” Hakyeon says softly. “Truly. Thank you.”

“I owe you, Hakyeon.” Your voice is hollow, eyes far away. “That's the only reason I'm here. The second we're done, I'm out.”

“All the same. Thank you.” Hakyeon smiles and surprises you with a hug, enveloping your smaller frame in his arms.

You stiffen, unused to being touched. But Hakyeon doesn't let go, and you allow yourself to relax for a breath.


	6. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!! I have been traveling a bit and I got sick very suddenly. I wanted to give this chapter its due diligence since it's so pivotal, so I spent a lot of time on editing as well. I hope you enjoy, thank you everyone for reading!!

You roll out of bed the next day well into the afternoon. Bright sunlight filters in through the pale blue curtains as you try to get your bearings. The past few days feel like a fever dream, but the shining city outside tells you that you are indeed back in your homeland. Not that you recognize much of it, of course. Even taking into account your minimal exposure to anything beyond the palace walls before your exile, the city has spent the last ten years spreading, growing like a moss over the landscape. And off in the distance is Yuseong River, an iridescent snake splitting the city in two.

After brushing your teeth, you groggily wander downstairs, hoping Hakyeon has procured breakfast in some non-curry way. You catch the barest glimpse of a stranger sitting at the dining table before she hurtles herself toward you, embracing you tightly and obscuring your vision in a cloud of dark hair.

“I didn't believe it, but it's true!” she whispers in a rush next to your ear. The woman finally releases you and holds you at arm’s length to get a better look. Possessing a model-like grace and beauty, she looks entirely unlike anyone you normally interact with. But under her pearly white smile and perfectly sculpted eyebrows, you get the distinct feeling you’ve met before.

“Hakyeon said he found you, but I honestly didn't believe him,” she rambles. “He says a lot of crazy things and—” She breaks off, blinking and pursing her lips. “And, you don't remember me, do you?”

“Ah,” you begin awkwardly, not sure what to say. The woman seems so familiar to you, like you might have seen her in a movie or a dream, but that doesn't seem quite right. Then, at her disappointed sigh of your name, something just clicks, your eyes widening in shock and recognition.

_ “Sora?” _

She beams, wrapping you in another fierce hug. “Oh, you do remember!”

You hear Hakyeon's chuckle off to the side somewhere. “You're crushing her, Sora.”

She releases you quickly as her grin turns sheepish. “I'm sorry. Hakyeon warned me to be gentle with you, but I got a little excited.”

“It's okay,” you say, feeling dazed. 

You're back in Asadal now, of course you would run into people from your childhood. It’s just a little hard to reconcile the mental image of your old best friend, all skinned knees and frizzy hair, with the put-together beauty in front of you. If reuniting with Hakyeon was a blast from the past, Sora’s presence feels like actual time travel. “What are you doing here?”

Still smiling, Sora takes your hands and leads you to sit down at the table, now devoid of Hakyeon's various documents.

“I brought her,” Hakyeon answers, leaning against the kitchen island. He's in a fresh set of clothes and looks slightly less haggard than yesterday, though the dark circles haven't budged. “I thought we could use some help reacclimating you with the court.”

Sora nods. “When Hakyeon called me saying he'd found you and that you were back in the Capital, I thought he was making fun of me. But I had to come on the off chance it was true.” She releases your hands and clasps her expertly manicured fingers together. “Wait ‘til I tell grandma!”

You smile at the mention of your old governess. “How is she?”

Sora smiles softly. “As well as can be. She and grandpa have been living at the old house out in Minami province since—“ She pauses here with a wrinkle of her pert nose. “Well, since grandpa left the Council.”

You furrow your brows in worry. Sora's grandfather had been your father's most trusted member of the High Council. With what Hakyeon said last night, you suppose it's only natural the king would dispose of him first. You count it as a blessing that he's still alive.

“And Sanghyuk?”

Sora rolls her eyes heavily. “Still with me in the Capital, still as bratty as ever.”

You smile, glad to hear of her little brother. The image of small, waifish boy clutching at his sister fills your memory with that pronouncement. It was easy to get attached to the kid after years of being followed around on your and Sora’s adventures through the palace. You’re reminiscing when a sudden thought occurs to you, and you spin in your seat to face Hakyeon.

“What do you mean reacclimate myself to the court?”

“My father,” he starts, “has requested your presence at the tower.”

“What.” The idea is so abhorrent that you think you've misheard.

Hakyeon sighs deeply. “I received a message from one of the king's secretaries this morning. It seems he does indeed know you're here, and he wants to see you.”

“When?” you ask simply.

“Tomorrow morning.”

You nod in understanding, seemingly calm. In reality, you've gone completely numb at the thought of standing face to face with the man who murdered your family, stole your kingdom, and almost murdered you as well.

“There's no way to refuse, is there?” A statement more than a question.

Hakyeon shakes his head. “I'm not sure what he wants, but it would be unwise not to go.”

You nod again, anxiety creeping up the back of your neck through the numbness. “What do we do?”

“I have a plan.” Arms crossed, Hakyeon has a look of foreboding.

“Let's hear it.”

“You're not going to like it,” he says with a slight grimace.

“Let's hear it,” you repeat, more slowly this time.

With a sigh Hakyeon runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing. “The kingdom is under the assumption that you are dead, and they have been since your disappearance. The people were forced to accept my father as king only because there was no other choice.”

He stops in front of the window, back turned and hands clasped. “While he certainly has his supporters, the people don’t love my father. They don’t support him the way they did your parents. And with the recent civil unrest, he has never been more unpopular with the common folk.”

You furrow your brows and look to Sora for confirmation, and she nods ruefully. “It's particularly bad down south.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” you ask.

Hakyeon turns around to face you, arms crossed again. “The king could use some support. If you can convince him you've arrived to help solidify his power, he'll be inclined to leave you alone while we work on deposing him.”

“You want me to be the king's personal cheerleader,” you say, deadpan.

He grimaces again, but nods. “For lack of better term.”

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You were right, I don't like this plan. I hate this plan.”

“Think about it,” Hakyeon implores. “The king already knows you're here. He’ll want to know why, and knowing my father, he will feel threatened by your presence. Convince him and the rest of the kingdom you’re here for his sake and he will be forced to leave you alone.”

At your skeptical look, he continues, clearly having pre-scripted this conversation. “Plus, you'll have a great vantage point of being involved in the court. I don't have a lot of allies there, and as I told you, I need access to the king's systems.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation. “Hakyeon, this is dumb. How are we supposed to explain my miraculous reappearance? What makes you think we can convince him of anything?”

“Because he has no choice,” Hakyeon states firmly. “My father's grip on the realm has always been tenuous at best, and he knows it. He may have his sycophants now, but they will turn on him at the drop of a hat.

“As for your reappearance.” He pauses. “I think my father has always suspected you survived.”

“How do you figure?” A chill runs down your spine at the very notion. That the king knew, waited out your years in exile.

Hakyeon shakes his head. “I just know. He never relaxed after I got you out of the kingdom. I covered my tracks as best I could, but still.” He smiles suddenly. “You're his worst failure.”

“I'm glad my not drowning was such an accomplishment,” you mutter darkly.

Sora speaks up from the side where she has been listening intently to your conversation. “What happened that night?” she asks in a soft voice.

Your jaw clenches and your muscles tense, as they always do when thinking back to that time. Hakyeon, taking your silence as a concerning sign, immediately tries discouraging the topic.

“Sora, I don't think now is the time—”

“No, it's okay,” you interrupt, your voice sounding impossibly small, even to yourself. “I've had time to come to terms with it.”

Hakyeon raises an eyebrow, apparently skeptical. “Have you?”

“Somewhat,” you clarify, rather embarrassed. To say you’re over your trauma would be a blatant lie. But it had been ten years ago, and you refuse to hesitate in front of your old friend, regardless of the constant anxiety and occasional nightmares you still have.

You swallow heavily and shake your head. “What do you remember about my parents’ deaths?”

Sora looks like she slightly regrets starting this conversation, but obliges. “There was a fire.” She pauses, pursing her lips and averting her eyes. “The king and queen were called to the Assembly House. Everyone did what they could, but they couldn’t put out the fire until it was too late. Except,” she says, huffing frustratedly, “everyone knows that's a lie.”

“Do they?” You're curious as to how much of the kingdom knows the truth.

“Well, not  _ everyone _ ,” she admits. “Just anyone in the court at the time. Grandpa warned your parents that something was going to happen.”

This is news to you. “He did?” You wonder just how much was known, if all this could have been prevented.

Sora nods. “You were away at school, but the entire High Council and half the magistrates seemed to know something was up with your uncle.”

You look to Hakyeon who nods as well. “I tried keeping an eye on my father, but you know he's always kept me at an arm's length. There were plenty at court who warned your parents that he could strike any moment.”

You look down as your heart clenches.  _ They knew. _ Your parents knew they were marked for death. “Why didn't they run?” you whisper, half to yourself.

“They didn't want to abandon the kingdom,” Sora says, looking to the floor sadly. “Grandpa ranted about it at home, about how they were too noble for their own good. Grandma at least managed to convince them to send you away.”

You suck in a deep breath to ground yourself, but your hands curl into fists, nails cutting half-moons into your palms. 

There’s only so much you could have done, right, from your position as a sheltered child? Your uncle had never seemed outwardly dangerous. A little weird, a little intense, popping into the palace randomly after long periods away. Your father never had the best relationship with his estranged older brother, your uncle always a little too desperate for leverage in court. But you never thought, never dreamed that he would do anything about it. If only you had spoken up.

“So everyone knows?” you ask in a hollow voice.

“Not the citizens. But the magistrates, the council, half the court even.” Sora looks at you, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “I'm sorry.”

You attempt a smile that lands closer to a grimace and shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sora. In fact, your grandpa saved my life. Along with Hakyeon,” you add, glancing over to your cousin.

The prince flushes slightly. “I had very little to do with it.”

“I wouldn't be here today if not for you,” you assert. “You remember the funeral?” you ask, turning back to Sora.

She nods. “I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I wanted to come see you the second you got back to the kingdom, but whenever I tried some court attendant or whoever would tell me you were busy.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle darkly. “They wanted to crown me immediately. They probably would have done it at the airport if Uncle hadn't stepped in.”

“I have a theory about that,” says Hakyeon. You raise an eyebrow and he continues. “I think my father assumed that he would be allowed to rule as regent for the time being. You were still a minor, and I think he planned to gradually take over officially.”

“But the Council had different plans,” you finish for him.

Hakyeon nods ruefully.

“I think everyone was afraid of the crown falling into your uncle's hands,” Sora adds.

“Instead they just spurred him to take drastic measures.” Hakyeon's jaw is set in anger, but you're too tired to be mad at what a group of old men did so long ago.

“He sent his men after me,” you explain, turning back to Sora and finally getting to the story. “I don't fully remember what happened, but I remember being dragged from my bed in the middle of the night.” 

You squeeze your fingers, doing your best to distract yourself and keep your heart rate down, but it isn't quite working. In your mind, you’re back in a dark, stuffy van, head swimming and lungs struggling to take in air.  _ Wake up. Wake up. Wake. UP. _

“I think I may have been drugged as well,” you add quietly, arms crossed firmly in some semblance of keeping yourself together.

Sora's eyes have gone wide at the revelation.

“After what happened to the king and queen I tried to stick as close to my father as possible,” Hakyeon continues for you. “I noticed him being more secretive than usual, and I instructed your grandfather to check in at the palace,” he explains to Sora. “I'm sorry I didn't move quicker. From what I gather, there was a chase. The men tried to transport the princess out of the Capital, but were held up at the bridge crossing Yuseong River.”

He looks away, unable to face you, while you're just doing your best to keep breathing normally. In your dreams you often re-live waking up with water in your lungs, darkness all around you. The memories are just as vivid ten years later.

Hakyeon lets out a strained sigh, the air getting caught somewhere in his throat as he exhales. “Together we got her out of the country.” He has his hands in his pockets, looking older than you've ever seen him. “The few loyal members of the Council and I, I mean.”

You nod. “They set me up with an apartment and fake documents for school and a little money. And that's where I've been until now. And,” you pause for a deep breath, “now you know.”

You're enveloped in a crushing hug once again as Sora jumps out of her seat toward you. “I'm sorry,” she whispers against your ear.

You shake your head, hugging her back. “It happened, and it's over.”

Sora releases you, then stands and surprises Hakyeon with a hug of his own. “You too, you silly prince,” she says emphatically. Hakyeon awkwardly pats her on the back and you almost laugh at the sight. Sora straightens and turns to face the two of you with a determined look in her eye.

“Okay, so what's the plan, how can I help?”


	7. Finery

Sora’s declaration spurs forth a flurry of activity that results in your standing outside an elegant bistro half an hour later, feeling woefully underdressed in your faded jeans and sweater. Judging by the trendy gaggle of diners on the outdoor patio, this restaurant is well out of your usual price range. You understandably had the space to bring only so much when fleeing Armistice, but next to Sora in her long skirt and designer boots, you feel rather inadequate. Even Jaehwan, still accompanying you on Hakyeon's orders, cleans up nicely in his dark jeans and button down.

Oblivious to your sartorial distress, Jaehwan has been staring at something behind you over your shoulder for the past five minutes. You spare a glance, somehow both bored and agitated, but it’s just another gaggle of highly fashionable pedestrians on the opposite sidewalk. It’s strange being in the throngs of normal society, people laughing and going about their day, as if you’re not acutely aware of every passing stranger and their likelihood of being under the king’s command.

Sora huffs and checks her phone. “Ugh, it is _just_ like Sanghyuk to keep us waiting this long.”

With the thought of meeting the king still looming over everyone's heads, Hakyeon had declared you needed a new wardrobe to properly fit the part of court mascot and roped Sora into being your guide for the day. Then once Sora realized you hadn’t eaten yet, she insisted on treating you to lunch first, calling up her brother as well on the assumption he would like to see you. From what you gather though, Sanghyuk is a late sleeper, leaving the three of you to wait outside the restaurant for his arrival.

Jaehwan scoffs, hands in pockets and lips quirked in a smile. “He's probably still hungover.”

Sora rolls her eyes. “I _know_ he's still hungover. He threw a pillow at me this morning when I tried to wake him up.”

It's strange to think of the young boy you knew at one time having anything to do with alcohol consumption, but sudden movement in the corner of your eye cuts off any further thought. A jolt of panic runs through your body, but before you can react, Jaehwan pivots to shield you and shoulder checks the encroaching figure, sending him sprawling on the sidewalk. The chatter around you pauses briefly, the diners outside startled into silence.

“What the _fuck_ , Hyuk?” Jaehwan pulls a groaning Sanghyuk up by the hand, both annoyed and amused. “You can't just run at people.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Sora says, glaring up at her brother.

Holding his head, Sanghyuk stands and grins sheepishly. “I just wanted to surprise the princess. I didn't think you'd go all _macho-Sword-man_ on me.”

“Han Sanghyuk, how many times have I told you that no one likes it when you do that?” Incensed, Sora has her hands on her hips, and you're struck by how much she's channeling her grandmother right now.

Trying to calm your still racing heart, you crane your neck upwards to peer at Sanghyuk. The last time you saw him, he was about shoulder height with you, but apparently, he takes after his giant of a grandfather, considering his current condition.

“Ahh, she doesn't mind,” Sanghyuk says, giving you a proper hug in greeting. “Do you?”

“Just don't do it again,” you respond, awkwardly bent back by his embrace. “What happened to you, Hyogi? I can't ruffle your hair anymore.”

Sanghyuk releases you, grinning, and Jaehwan opens the glass door to the restaurant, ushering your group in.

“Puberty is a magical thing, I'll tell you all about it later,” Jaehwan says, deadpan and holding the door open for you to walk through.

You stick your tongue out at him childishly before you can stop yourself. “We're getting lunch and buying some clothes, _why_ are you here exactly?” You know the answer to that, of course; Hakyeon was very clear that you are not to go anywhere in the city without your “bodyguard”, but you hate feeling babied.

“He can hold the bags for us,” Sora says soothingly. She strides forward to the maître d’ of the restaurant who is busy jotting down reservations in a large tablet.

“I'm sorry, we are booked full through today,” he says as your group approaches without even looking up. “You'll have to call ahead next time.”

Undeterred, Sora smiles. “I'll just need my usual table, Jisoo.”

The man immediately looks up from his task, eyes widening in shocked apology. “Lady Han! I am very sorry, I didn't realize it was you.” He jumps out from behind the desk, bowing a full ninety degrees. “Right this way.”

You haven’t seen this much bowing and scraping since your days at the palace, but you follow Sora and the man anyway to the back of the restaurant where there is a lovely paper screen set up for privacy. Snippets of conversation heard from diners you pass along the way only add to your confusion.

“Ohmygod, don't look now, but _the_ Han Sora just walked in.”

“Holy shit, think we can get a picture? Who's the hottie she's with?”

“Gross, that's her brother.”

“No, the blond one! Next to that frumpy chick.”

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment and you quicken your pace, desperate to be out of view. The maître d’ eventually leads the group to an elegantly set table toward the very back, set against some more screens and bathed in sun from an overhead skylight. He pulls out a chair for Sora, and Jaehwan, to your surprise, pulls one out for you. At your questioning look, Jaehwan simply flashes a cheeky smile and seats himself to your left. On your right, Sanghyuk immediately grabs a menu to peruse.

“Would you like a wine list, my lady?” says the maître d’ to Sora, once again in a deep bow. “We recently received a shipment of excellent vintage wine from Imsal that I'm sure you would find to your taste.”

“I'll just have a bottle of that then,” Sora responds, sending the man scurrying off in haste.

“A little early for alcohol,” you say, paging through the menu. As everything since your exodus has been, the expensive choices are overwhelming.

“Never too early for alcohol,” Sanghyuk states dryly, nose still stuck in the menu.

“Maybe just a glass of milk for this one,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

“I'm lactose intolerant, actually,” he says smugly as the maître d’ returns with a bottle of wine and an ice bucket.

Uncorking the bottle, Jaehwan takes it upon himself to pour out glasses for everyone. He passes over Sanghyuk’s offered glass, eliciting a furious pout from the offended party.

“You can't be serious.”

“Shut up and drink your milk, Hyogi,” quips Jaehwan, smirking as he pours you a glass.

Sanghyuk flips Jaehwan a finger, making you snort in laughter and Sora sigh.

“ _Boys_ ,” she says in exasperation. “Can we pretend to be nice and civilized for like, half an hour? That's all I ask. And are you not still hungover?” Sora glares pointedly at Sanghyuk, who has decided to take matters into his own hands by pouring himself a glass.

“Nope!” he responds, popping the ‘p’. “Didn’t even go out last night. Was up until four gaming; Changkyun set our raid real late.” A waiter comes by briefly to take orders, bowing several times in the process. Swirling the wine in his glass, Sanghyuk lays his chin on his hand boredly. “I’ll behave. Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your adoring fans.”

Sipping your own wine slowly, you look at Sora sitting across the table. “What's this about adoring fans?”

Jaehwan lets out a laugh that he tries, and fails, to cover with a cough. “Wow, you really lived under a rock back in Armistice, huh?”

You glare at him, and Sora flushes slightly. “I didn't really have time for much outside of school and work,” you mutter.

“That's quite alright.” Sora smiles and fiddles with her hair self-consciously. “I act a bit now, that's all.”

Both the boys scoff at that. “She's the kingdom's sweetheart,” Jaehwan supplies. “Can't turn on a screen without seeing Sora.”

“Did you have to take the one voice over gig though?” Sanghyuk complains. “My friends keep trying to get me to play that game, and it looks so cool, but I refuse to play anything where I have to listen to my sister the whole time.”

Sora rolls her eyes in response. “My agent thought it'd be a good idea to engage the younger demographic. Deal with it.”

“The point is,” Jaehwan says, “she's the perfect candidate to teach you how to behave in Capital culture.”

You narrow your eyes, trying hard not to be offended. “Are you saying I don't know how to behave?”

The waiter returns with several trays, distracting Jaehwan from an answer for a moment. “You're prickly,” he responds eventually with a mouth full of pasta. “And abrasive.”

“I am not _prickly_.” You try not to sound defensive, but you have to admit his words have some truth to them.

“I wasn't done,” Jaehwan says holding up a finger and swallowing heavily. “You freeze in tense situations and you're so out of touch with the kingdom that you didn't realize its most famous celebrity is actually your best friend from childhood.”

He smiles widely as you grit your teeth and glare. “Am I wrong?” he asks with the quirk of an eyebrow.

You stare down at your plate, unwilling to answer. He isn't wrong. No one knows better than you that the task Hakyeon has given you is monumental. You were forced to grow into a different person after leaving the kingdom, and now you're supposed to prance back into court high society like none of it ever occurred.

_Remember Hakyeon,_ is all you can think through your clenched jaw, clenched fists. _Remember Hakyeon and remember the debt._

“You're not doing it alone,” Sora says softly from across the table. “Okay? We'll be here to prepare you for everything.”

You sigh, feeling defeated before anything has even happened. “That’s all well and nice, but I’m the one going into the lion’s den.”

“The king’s not going to murder you in broad daylight,” Jaehwan says with the slightest roll of his eyes. “He’s left you alone so far anyway. If he'd wanted to make a move, he would have already.”

This does nothing to help your fears and you glare at him again. “Do you think I would have been allowed to enter this city if the king didn't want me here?” You can't shake the feeling that you're walking right into his hands.

“Well,” Sanghyuk pipes up. “If nothing else, don't worry too much about the court and the general public. A little ass kissing here, a couple photo ops with Sora there, and they'll be eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Sora nods. “Exactly. Stick you in a designer dress and you’ll fit right in. Maybe a haircut too,” she adds as an afterthought.

“What's wrong with my hair?” you ask, frowning. You hadn't cut your hair in a while for lack of time and initiative, but you don't think you look terrible.

“Don't worry,” Sora says waving her hand dismissively. “I'll take care of everything, and when I'm done the tabloids won't know what to do with themselves.” Her grin is meant to be encouraging but it feels like an ominous portent for the rest of the day at your friend's mercy.

As it is, your instincts had the right idea to be frightened.

 

* * *

 

 Shortly after lunch, Sora leads you and Jaehwan on a whirlwind of a shopping spree. Sanghyuk ditches early, citing an urgent appointment with his bed and his utter disinterest in taking part in his sister's madness as reasons.

For once you’re glad to have Hakyeon's unlimited credit line, considering the high-end boutiques and department stores you keep being pulled into. You're continuously forced into fitting rooms, arms laden with clothes Sora wants you to try, each time aided by boutique owners who inevitably end up being huge fans of your friend. Between your impromptu fashion show and the salon where your hair and skin are poked, prodded, and plucked, you feel like you’ve walked through a hurricane of perfume and finery.

Sora excuses herself to check on an order she has coming in at yet another boutique, leaving the two of you to awkwardly wait outside. Jaehwan is buried in various shopping bags, and you're leaning against the brick facade in an attempt to catch your breath. It’s a busy shopping district, pedestrians flooding in and out of the many storefronts and restaurants.

You close your eyes for a moment, head bent in a futile attempt to hide yourself under the giant ferns flanking the boutique doors. No matter how much rest you get, you can’t seem to shake this exhaustion that’s settled into your bones ever since you made the decision to leave Armistice. It’s a strange feeling to be so very tired and at the same time wary of every little bit of your surroundings. The anxiety and fatigue combine to make your insides feel inflamed.

A deep breath later you straighten up and peek up at Jaehwan on the off chance he’s also tired enough to let you leave early, but he’s all furrowed brows and tense shoulders, once again distracted by something across the street. You follow his gaze to the cafe immediately in front of you, confused by the seemingly innocuous scene. There’s a man with close-cropped hair seated outside who feels vaguely familiar, but there are millions of men with buzz cuts in the world and you’re all out of long-lost childhood friends.

“ _What_ have you been staring at all day?” It comes out snippier than you intended, and Jaehwan snaps his eyes to yours, an easy smile plastered back on.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been staring off into space,” you say, suddenly annoyed. “All day.”

“It’s nothing, thought I spotted an old friend.” He’s still smiling in his usual irritating way, lips stretched wide at a joke you’re not in on.

“Some bodyguard,” you scoff, pushing off the wall. Instead you find a seat at a bench a little down the block, ignoring your shadow as best you can while he settles down next to you. Your position gives you an unhindered view of the riverside promenade, the gap in buildings allowing a small breeze to filter through. You absently play with your hair as the wind picks it up, now cut shoulder length and blow-dried straight.

“It looks good,” Jaehwan says suddenly, face peeking out from under the pile of boxes and bags he's holding.

“What?” His voice wrenches your gaze away from the river, where the setting sun is turning the surface of the waters to molten gold.

“Your hair,” he explains. “It looks good, don't worry.”

You blink and look at him, not quite sure how to react. “Thank you?”

Amused, Jaehwan gives you a lopsided smile and copies your tone. “You're welcome?”

You turn away quickly, trying to hide your embarrassment, and caught off guard by his friendliness. You still don't know what to make of the man who has been your constant companion for the past few days. He seems determined to get under your skin, all smiles and jokes, but then his sudden serious moments give you whiplash.

“What's that?” you ask, pointing toward several structures clustered up against the river. Some of the buildings look half-complete, with their steel skeletons stretching up to the open sky, while others look fully functional but nonetheless abandoned. The largest straddles the river, arched towers on each bank meeting in the middle elegantly.

“What’s what?” Jaehwan cranes his neck to look at where you're pointing. “That ugly thing? It was supposed to be a hotel, I think, a whole resort complex type deal. There's always some new construction project going up, but this one ran out of money and stopped building a while ago.”

You nod in understanding. “The city's expanded a lot since I was last here.”

“All the development companies are owned by the king's new magistrates,” he murmurs.

“All of them?”

“Not in name,” he amends. “But it's all the same people if you trace the contracts far back enough. Hakyeon's been trying to fight it, but it's an uphill battle.”

“How is he doing that?” you ask, genuinely curious. You have no idea what your cousin has been up to beyond court politics.

“He's been funneling money to competitors and foreign investors. A lot of business shit I don't fully understand.” Jaehwan shakes his head and grimaces a little. “He's the one that convinced TirTech to open a branch here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And the king just lets him do it?”

Jaehwan's face grows dark for a moment, mind elsewhere. “The king is pretty busy with other things.”

You're about to ask what he thinks the king is up to when Jaehwan suddenly exclaims and shoves the bags off himself.

“Oh! Wait here a second.” He jumps up and makes to walk away, then turns back around. “Do _not_ move, understand?” he says firmly, wagging a finger for good measure.

“ _Yes sir_ ,” you mock, rolling your eyes.

You watch as he quickly jogs across the street to a food cart on the corner. You're both confused and amused by his sudden change in demeanor as he animatedly points to what you assume is a menu, glancing back every now and again to make sure you're still sitting on the bench. He jogs back a few minutes later with a paper bag in hand.

“Churros!” Jaehwan grins, pulling one out of the bag for you.

You accept the proffered fried stick of dough and take a bite, careful not to dust yourself in sugar in the process. Warm and sweet, the dessert is an immediate mood lifter.

“Did you have a sudden craving?” you ask, half joking.

Jaehwan shakes his head, mouth full of his own churro. “This is the best churro cart in the city. I remember from the last time Sora dragged Hyuk and me this way.”

“What, like you've tried all of them?” you mumble around a mouthful of churro.

“I get around,” Jaehwan says, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively.

It's an effort not to inhale dough as you snort in laughter, caught off guard by his silly expression. He seems rather proud of himself, smiling broadly at your laugh. You bite your lips in an attempt to keep a straight face, but your efforts are in vain. With a roll of your eyes you turn away from him, but the laughter has sunken into your face as a contented smile, the omnipresent dread on your shoulders held at bay for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for constantly taking long breaks between chapters. I'm trying to develop, write, and edit all at the same time, and it's quite an endeavor. How do you guys feel about the direction of this story? As always, thanks for reading!


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